Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Russia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing T. Rex to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronnie Foster,
Roxette,
Minor Threat,
Bluetip,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
The Fortunes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
Pierre Henry,
The Cure,
KRS-One,
These Immortal Souls,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Absolute Body Control,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Stereo Dub,
Skriet,
Magma,
Reagan Youth,
Essential Logic,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swans,
The Selecter,
Television,
Dawn Penn,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cluster,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Porter Ricks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DJ Sneak,
Pole,
Yazoo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unrelated Segments,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
Jandek,
The Invisible,
Kevin Saunderson,
Groovy Waters,
June Days,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.